Security essentials

It seemed like yesterday, I would find my daughter with her pacifier embedded in her mouth and her fingers clasped tightly around her sheet -walking around, with the world at her fingertips.

If she became scared, she was instantly soothed.
If she needed comfort, she was instantly comforted.

This once crisp white, decaled sheet stood the test of time. It was there for scary dreams, long car rides, and preschool days. It has been dropped in lakes, creeks, pools, and even the ocean. It wiped away tears and healed boo boos.

Her simple, security essentials to surviving her 0-5 years.

To my daughter, this sheet and pac combo had magical powers. Once summoned, anything that couldn't be conquered, was now conquerable. 

I always imagined her "pac" and "sheet" were both going to college with her. Those were the two most important items to pack in my bag, even over snacks. They became a fixture, a part of her, and everyone in our family knew them as the pac and sheet.

But as time passes and people grow, those once very needed items are no longer carried with her. They remain nestled among her pillows and bedding, waiting for her at bedtime. 

At night, she now hugs the sheet, pulling it against her cheek, and it remains snuggled there until she wakes. Then disregarded when the sun peeks through her bedroom windows. Additionally, the pac is no longer needed for sucking, but rather, for holding. Just there so she feels the comfort.

All of the sudden, she is able to face the day time world head on, without the assistance of her magical items. If she gets hurt, she brushes it off, if she gets upset, she figures out how to make herself happy, if she becomes scared, she fights her fear...

...All qualities she decided to accomplish on her own, in her own time. She decided when it was appropriate to allow herself to grow. I myself, would have allowed her to take these items to college with her if they brought that much joy -I could think of worse things.

I was never the type of parent to force my children to forfeit an item that was so dear to them. Especially, one that has brought immense comfort and satisfaction to her small, scary world.

Sadly, I still instinctively pack these items out of repetition, but later realize, it was completely unnecessary. I find I have a hard time with my children getting older and not needing so much comfort. These little changes disrupt my every days state. Things that were a guarantee, are no longer and things that were as constant as the sun rising, are now nonexistent. 

My newly 5 year old, has magically transformed over night. 

So now, I tuck my children into bed, my daughter with her sheet and pac and my son with his doggy and blanket, and breathe in all the precious moments of childhood. I relish in their childish behaviors and their habits that seem babyish, because before I know it, it'll all be over. Those once everyday moments, will be a memory in the past. And that sheet and pac and doggy and blanket, will all one day be tucked away memories stored in a tote, to be looked upon at a much later date.

A sister and brother moment

As I'm floating through the house, picking up random toys that are scattered throughout, humming a tune that is from one of the many cartoons that is forever branded into my brain, I'm interrupted by the distinct sound of quiet talking. I pause, as I'm trying to decipher if what I'm hearing is from an unwatched TV or if it's one, or both of my children. 

I follow the sound to the living room, where I stand out of sight to watch my son and daughter nestled softly together on the couch. The pink colored blanket is covering their little legs, while my daughter's outstretched arm encapsulates my son.

There they sit, ever so still, as my daughter cheerfully reads several books to her brother. He's intensely focused and holds onto her every word. Eagerly awaiting to hear what happens next, as she continues to tell the stories with such ease and magic in her voice. 

They do this together...

...Everyday.

And everyday, my heart melts just a little bit more.

I'm holding onto this beautiful moment...

A loving moment.

A nurturing moment.

A learning moment.

For all eternity...

And, I'm not sure if my son knows how lucky he is to have his sister, but I sure know how lucky I am to have both of them in my life forever.

Mid Week Revelation: The meaning of the word, no.

On some days, when I say the word no, my children interpret that as, "let's do this 50 more times until mommy completely loses her mind." Motherhood, it's not for the weak.

A magical summer

Once outside, I feel the crisp cool air glide across my body and I instinctively shiver as it catches me off guard. The sun continues to be bright and the sky is blue, falsifying the feeling in the air. The trees and grass remain a luscious green... It's hard to believe that summer is winding down to a close.

I still feel like there is so much more that needs to be done. There are still princesses that need saving and dragons that need slaying. There are more woods that need exploring and fire pits that need building. Sooner than I know it, the fall will quickly turn into winter, leaving us house bound for the remaining months -Only stepping outside for school and the occasional sleigh riding.

I hesitantly packed away our pool for the season. My children splashed in the surrounding puddles that occurred from draining. They hopped in and out of the shallow water to grab one more quick swim -laughing and giggling, just like they did all summer. That little 10x30 pool will forever be one of my greatest memories from this summer. I will forever hear those words, "mommy can we hurry up and go in the pool" as soon as my eyes opened in the morning. My daughter and son swam from sun up to sun down -stopping only for food and outdoor play. But I must say, a lot of accomplishments happened this summer. My daughter learned how to swim underwater and above water for the first time without any type of floatation device and my son learned how to swim with only arm swimmies on. 

We spent so many of the daytime hours outside, creating adventures and imagining a new theme daily.

Hiking through our woods.

Building fires.

Setting up camp.

Climbing trees.

Playing on the swingset.

The farm season also is coming to an end, leaving our spooky forest rituals on hold until next spring. Also, no more horseback riding, feeding the various animals, or my children singing Love is an Open Door in the lattice gazebo that was nestled beside the flowing creek. 

The air will soon be too cold to bear the outside for longer periods. Closing in on the beautiful weather which brought so many new memories...

Sprinkler play.

My daughter's 5th birthday party.

My daughter accomplishing all 22 monkey bars at the playground.

Creek playing.

My daughter jumping off the diving board.

Our annual local amusement park trip.

Our beach trip.

And my daughter's first day of kindergarten.

With each passing year, I play a mental game with myself. I have a love/hate relationship with Father Time. I hate how quickly these seasons are fleeting and I feel like there isn't even enough time to grab a moment and enjoy it. But, I love how time is allowing new memories to be created. With time passing, development is progressing, and I get to watch this new incredible relationship form and change between my two children. This was the first summer where they played together not only as brother and sister, but friends. My son has reached a level where he is a communicating companion for his sister. A participant in her games, adventures, and ideas. He now has his own likes and dislikes and is able to voice everything. He now brings ideas to the table, instead of my daughter creating everything -and I must say, he has a competitive imagination with his sister. 

I think the hardest part of motherhood, is watching your children age in front of your eyes. While I'm enjoying all the new memories and changes, I have a hard time with how quickly stages come and go. Just like the seasons, memories are being tucked away, preparing for a new one.

So while I do have hundreds of photos from this summer, I'll still be replaying all the moments in my head. Smiling at each and every one as I remember how marvelous the season was. 

Closing my eyes to hear the sounds...

...And breathing in all the smells.

Knowing that I'll always have these to cherish, but knowing many new memories are yet to come. And maybe, just maybe, we'll make this winter the best one yet!

With change, brings new beginnings -Happy Birthday!

One moment in time, 5 years ago, two adults were carrying along with their life, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their newborn baby girl. The nursery was set, the clothes were washed, and their hospital bag was packed, while diapers and bottles were piling up in the background... 

The nervous jitters of the unknown begun to sink in as the due date fast approached.

Who would ever think that one little human could change the course of life. How someone so tiny could make someone fall to their knees...

Those unknowns became knowns as quickly as the air passes into our lungs. Life with my child was like the eternal missing puzzle piece. Once placed into my arms, I wondered how my arms felt before her and how did they tolerated the lifelessness, the lack of heaviness.

My daughter has incredibly and remarkably brought immense happiness into our lives, happiness that was unheard of before her. Without her, I wouldn't be the person I am today and without her, I wouldn't have ability to love another human like I do. So, this one tiny human has completely changed every part of my soul and left me with the thought, how did I ever survive before her?

Of course, some days the time stood still as I attempted to figure out this whole mothering role. But, my daughter made it easy... And I quickly figured out, I was born to be her mother.

I could remember when she turned one, I stood hovering over her bed as I couldn't imagine how big she was. I packed away her too little clothing, her no longer needed infant toys, her too small baby blankets, and remembered that beautiful first year with her.

I cried long and hard, sobbing into my pillow, as life seem to drift away.

Each year was the same scenario, I would gracefully pack away unused clothing, toys, or whatever else wasn't in her interests anymore. I cried by myself, as the time was passing at an alarming rate. I tried everything to savor moments, holding onto materialistic items just to get one last glimpse of the past.

I could remember my daughter sitting, ever so quietly, in a sea of story books, pretending to read her favorite one. This image will forever be burned into my memory, as this was the most constant position I would find her. Now, she is in the process of reading the actual words, instead of creating her own words.

I could remember the way she would search for my hand in the middle of the night, then instantly relax as soon as our hands were clasped.

I could remember when I had all day to spend with her, before we were confined to schedules.

Each year, more things and more memories are packed away, and taking with them a part of my heart, my life.

However, with time passing, I've realized that she is not attached to those materialistic items, or memories in my brain. She is full sized and right in front of my eyes. She is 5 years old and has one of the most beautiful souls I have ever seen. She is constantly, forever changing and with change, brings new beginnings.

**Happy 5th Birthday to my sweet, beautiful, thoughtful, and ever changing daughter! Life with you makes perfect sense.**

Mid Week Revelation: Cheerios are multiplying by the minute

I'm convinced, many years from now, when my children are grown and moved on with their lives, I'll still be finding cheerios somewhere on the floor in my house or car.

Sibling games

My mornings have been the same thus far. I consciously begin to wake by the sounds of giggles, conversation, and little cars being strung across my living room floor.

In my household, this is known as a car race.

My two children have mustered up a game where they take EVERY one of my son's cars and push them across the floor to see who can get theirs to go the furthest.

Some mornings, my blood pressure raises from the sounds of 50 plus cars crowding up my living room, hitting off the baseboards at high velocity. Then other mornings, my heart melts from hearing them laugh and coach each other and offer strategies on how to do better with the next car.

Nonetheless, the game always ends up the same way, by abruptly stopping and leaving 50 plus cars scattered aimlessly across my hard wood floors. Suddenly, they proceed to move onto another task, which usually consists of jumping in bed with mommy for morning snuggles -which I'll never tire of. That's when I ask my oldest if the living room is free of cars and her response is frequently the same as, "maybe you shouldn't go in there yet." Then my daughter hops out of bed, also luring her brother out, saying she forgot something in the other room.

There's a quick pause... Ending with the sound of cars clanking together as they're thrown into the mesh basket. 

However, lately my daughter has been able to conjure my son into assisting with the clean up, before I can even come in the room and assess the situation...

Some call it well mannered...
I call it evidence shredding.

These truly are the happy days, as I'm able to sit back and listen to the joyful sounds of my two children living life the way it is meant to be lived. To enjoy the simplicity of childhood -making games out of practically nothing, allowing their imaginations to run completely wild, and building an incredible friendship with their sibling. 

Although, the sounds of those massive quantities of cars being spilled onto my hardwood floor is a distinct sound that I doubt I'll forget for a long time. Truthfully, on some days, the thought of cleaning it ALL up myself drives me mad. But, after I'm done creeping around on my hands and knees, picking up each individual car, I stop and stare at the empty floor and quickly notice the silence in the room. I have a moment of anguish, as I realize a few 50 cars on my floor isn't that much of a big deal in the scheme of things. That one day, yes, my living room will be clean of cars, but I'll never hear this game being played again. A game that right now, is as consistent as the sun rising. A game that brings more amusement to my children's lives than most toys and games. It's at that moment of distraught and self evaluation, that I hear something else spill out onto the playroom floor and laugh to myself at the irony of motherhood... Knowing that life is completely chaotic, and will be for years to come, but one day, it will all be completely calm and I'll be yearning for these happy days.